


Pulling Pigtails

by Origami_Breath



Series: Billdipweek2017: Halloween Prompts [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: BillDipWeek2017, Egging, Halloween Prompts, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, same age au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origami_Breath/pseuds/Origami_Breath
Summary: Mabel and Dipper are just trying to bake treats for their class when the town's jerk comes to egg the Mystery Shack.





	Pulling Pigtails

“Bleugh!” Mabel shouts, dumping all of the baking ingredients precariously onto the table, the jars of sprinkles (so, so many sprinkles) falling to the floor. **  
**

Dipper, meanwhile, is trying to figure out how she managed to sneak in Halloween cards. Halloween cards and gel pens and Dipper knows for a fact that Mabel is planning on writing each individual’s name on each card as if they were valentines or something. No way did Dipper agree to individualize Halloween treats for his classmates. No way. He was not behind the system of fairness when it came to handing out treats.

More specifically he did not want Bill to think that he hand-made a treat for him. Bill would take it way too personally, and then proceed to tease Dipper while gleefully ignoring the fact that everybody else got the exact same treat. God, Bill was insufferable.

“Oh great you found the cards! You can write the names, since your handwriting is so girly,” Mabel says, already tying a custom-made apron around her waist while trying to gnaw open the gel pen wrapping with her teeth. Dipper just watches impassively, knowing that, against all odds, Mabel will tie the perfect bow on her apron while shredding apart plastic with her mouth.

Whether it’s a gift or a curse is yet to be known.

“I don’t want to do cards, Mabel,” Dipper says, and winces when Mabel pauses in her multitasking, a beseeching look coming across her face.

“Don’t worry, Dip-Dop, I won’t tell people you wrote them.” Which is so not the point.

“I just don’t see the point, you know?” Dipper shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking out the window, trying very hard to to think back on Bill but of course he thinks about him anyways and ends up saying, “it’s not like everyone deserves them. If they want a brownie then fine, but not everyone likes brownies and it’d be rude to assume because maybe some people have allergies or some of them are on diets and we shouldn’t-”

“I don’t think Bill’s allergic to anything,” Mabel says and Dipper’s mouth falls open, an unmanly screech coming out.

“I don’t care about Bill!”

Mabel, who had successfully unpackaged the pens, lets them clatter to the floor, watching Dipper with a wide grin.

“Sure you do, you got a boy crush on him and you’re worried that he’ll make fun of you.”

“He will make fun of me!” Dipper pauses, realizes that that sounds like he cares and follows up with: “and I don’t care! I- I just- why bother if he’s going to be an insufferable jerk?”

Mabel clicks her tongue and shakes her head, pulling out bowl after bowl from the cupboards, leaving Dipper to pick up the gel pens because as much as he’s arguing he knows he’s going to have to write their classmates names out. Doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it though.

“He’s just pulling your pigtails, bro bro. He’s just shy about approaching you, you’re very intimidating.”

“I’m not!”

“Yeah. You’ve got your nerdy vibe and the ‘I’m too good for everyone’ thing. Real loner. If only they knew you were a big dork!”

Dipper sighs, plopping down in a chair and dropping his head down on the kitchen table. Dipper did not have a crush. Definitely not a crush on Bill. That’s gross because it’s Bill. Bill is a rude, attention grabbing, annoying voice person. He just doesn’t want to see Mabel try so hard on baked goods only to have Bill drop it on the ground and stomp on it. Or even eat up and then throw it up. Which would probably make Mabel feel bad. But Dipper wouldn’t feel bad. Because Bill’s a jerk. A big, lying jerk-face who does nothing but torment Dipper on the daily. He doesn’t even bother getting Dipper’s name right. It’s an injustice and, quite frankly, very unnecessary.

There’s no way Mabel’s right about Bill being shy. Bill isn’t shy.

“Hey Dipper, can you pass the eggs? They’re over-”

A hard crack echoes in the kitchen and Mabel jumps about a foot into the air, her hands waving around until she finds the baking pan that she then stretches out in front of her in a defense. Dipper isn’t ashamed to say that he dropped to the ground underneath the kitchen table.

“What was that?” he asks, starting to crawl over to Mabel, fully intending to pull her down if he needs to.

Mabel doesn’t seem to be that freaked out anymore. She even looks a little confused and somewhat amused. It piques Dipper’s interest enough that he gets off the floor.

There, on the window to the kitchen, is what Dipper can only assume used to be a full egg, the yolk streaked down with a bit of the shell still clinging to the glass.

They were being egged.

He turns to Mabel, ready to suggest they call the police only to find she’s halfway out of the kitchen, a carton of eggs tucked in under her arm which means-

“Mabel!” he shouts, running after, grabbing Mabel’s discarded baking pan for a possible shield.

He comes upon the scene to see Mabel already mid throw with her arm wound back and a vicious grin on her face and-

“Bill,” he says, and finds that he’s actually not all that surprised that Bill Cipher would come over to egg his house.

Again: jerk.

Without really thinking Dipper snatches the egg from Mabel’s hand and chucks it hard in Bill’s direction, feeling viciously satisfied when it hits him in the middle of his chest. There’s a lull of silence where Bill just stands there, eyes wide and an expression that, for once, isn’t shit-eating or mocking. He looks genuinely startled and it makes Dipper puff out his chest in pride.

Of course it’s not a long-lived experience because once Bill gets his bearings he’s grinning again like he always does but with something a little…extra.

Lets just say the next egg he threw was with a little too much passion. Dipper’s pretty sure he’s going to have a bruise on his leg for at least a few weeks.

The next minute or so is a blur with Mabel shouting gleefully tossing eggs at both Bill and Dipper, but other than a few shouts of betrayal Dipper mostly focuses on getting Bill though Bill seems to be intent on only aiming for Dipper though Dipper notices that Bill sometimes throws two eggs at once to include Mabel which is…not exactly nice, considering he’s throwing eggs like an automated machine, but…

Dipper doesn’t expect Bill to be rushing him, doesn’t expect the hard crack of an egg on his head and can’t be blamed that he loses balance against Bill’s weight against his body. Hitting the ground hard he yells out and tries to push at Bill’s face which is maniacal at best, his annoying laugh pitching high in his ears.

“Who woulda thought you’d be prepared for an egging!” Bill laughs out, holding his stomach. Dipper barely restrains himself from reaching for another egg because for some reason Bill covered in raw egg doesn’t look bad and it just makes him frustrated.

“Not egging! Baking! For the Halloween party!” Mabel chimes in, scooping up mostly unharmed eggs and dropping them into her apron pouch, apparently done with the egging for tonight and ready to bake again. Which reminds Dipper that he has to write out all those personalized cards. Ugh.

“My, my, my, baking, huh?” Bill leers, reaching down to pinch Dipper’s cheeks. Which makes him very aware that he’s still under Bill and ugh. Pushing off the jerk and scrambling up to his feet he brushes off the knees of his jeans, getting yolk all up between his fingers. “Why I wouldn’t mind if you payed me forward my share of brownie.”

This makes Dipper pause, feeling incredulous and affronted by Bill’s assuming.

“Who says you get one?”

“I’m in your class, ain’t I, kid?” Bill scoffs, getting to his feet swiftly and only has to run his hand through his hair once to fix it.

“Kid!? We’re the same- you know what? No. Nope. You’re not getting one. You wanna know why?” he says, reaching out to poke Bill in the chest, enunciating each word as he says, “because you. Are. a. Jerk.”

Bill’s face turns a slight red, his cheeks flaming and the freckles across the bridge of his nose standing to attention. Dipper doesn’t think it’s cute because Bill’s weird.

“So I suppose Gideon doesn’t get one neither, huh?” Dipper puffs out his cheeks in annoyance.

“Gideon wouldn’t stomp on something Mabel made.”

“Neither would I!”

“Yes you-”

“Not if you made it,” Bill says, too quiet that Dipper almost doesn’t hear it past the ringing in his ears. But he does hear it and it gives him a pause. Because what?

“What-?” he says and tries to ignore Mabel who’s obviously trying to be discreet while making these weird girly squealing noises under her breath. Not that Dipper can compute anything with Bill in his face, blushing and looking…shy. Bill’s shy.

“Nevermind. See you around Pine Tree.” And nope. There’s no way Dipper can leave it at that because his mind is absolutely blown and he can honestly say that he wouldn’t mind getting to know the non-jerky version of Bill.

“Wait!” he shouts, blushes red when Bill turns around and smirks, a little sliver of doubt crawling in. “I think you should stay and…bake with me, uhm, with us, I mean.”

“Should I?”

“You know,” Dipper says, rubbing the back of his neck and manages an embarrassed smile, “or you’ll never know if I spit in your brownie.”

Bill’s laugh is enough to make Dipper relax, a genuine smile settling on his face. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.


End file.
